


The Demon’s Pride

by thegreatficmaster



Series: Random Fandom Ficlets [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angry Crowley (Good Omens), F/M, Fluff, Gen, Light Angst, M/M, Reader-Insert, Threats
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-12 02:23:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20556647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatficmaster/pseuds/thegreatficmaster
Summary: Sometimes, Crowley’s ‘evil’ rubs off on you.





	The Demon’s Pride

“Ah-ah! Where are you going?”

Crowley stopped in front of his building, ears perked when he heard your voice from across the street.

He glanced over, noticing you standing with a man who looked completely flustered-rubbing his neck as you pointed at the car.

“You’ve scratched it. You can’t just leave”.

“I…I did?” he asked, peering down at the car and seeing the faintest of scratches along the side of the door.

He glanced down at his bag, realising he’d scratched the car with the buckle when he was passing by.

You crossed your arms, tapping your foot on the ground and raising your eyebrows.

“Well…how are you gonna pay?”

Crowley watched you with a proud smile-deciding to let it play out instead of getting involved.

“I…I’m sorry?”

“You’re gonna have to pay for repairs”, you said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And it’s gonna cost ya”.

The panic on his face grew-looking closer at the scratch and laughing nervously.

“It’s…just a scratch. You can barely see it”, he chuckled awkwardly.

“Just a scratch?” you scoffed, kneeling beside the Bentley and stroking it like it was a giant cat. “You maimed the most beautiful car in the world”.

The man glanced at you with worried eyes-as though you were nothing more than a crazy person on the side of the road-muttering to a car and stroking it lovingly.

“Listen-can we just…let this go?” he asked, glancing around at the mostly empty street, his feet itching to move.

“Let it go? Dude-I don’t think you realize how important this car is…or who it belongs to”.

He stared at you for a few moments-before the slight terror on his face disappeared-replaced with a look of intimidation.

“It’s a damn scratch. Ignore it, and shut the fuck up”, he growled-a stark contrast to the awkward man you’d been speaking to moments ago.

You knew most people would probably cower at his tone-but you felt nothing but amusement at his attempt to frighten you, your finger on his forehead as you shoved him backwards.

“What’s going on?”

You both glanced to the side, Crowley sauntering over with a frown on his face.

“Who’re you?” the man asked, defensively puffing his chest out, standing straight and looking larger than before.

Crowley laughed to himself, peering at you-an excited smile on your face as you leaned against the car, watching on like your favourite movie was playing.

Crowley took a single step forward-enough to have his face inches away from the man-whose heart was racing, gulping and leaning back slightly.

“This one’s boyfriend”, he murmured, lowering his glasses and flashing his eyes at the man, who seemed to have lost all the strength in his body-falling to the floor and crawling backwards.

You stifled a laugh, watching as he scooted back against a wall, curling into himself as Crowley knelt beside him-fishing the man’s wallet out of his jacket and taking everything he had.

“This enough?” he asked, handing you what amounted to just under £50.

“I mean…I guess…” you shrugged, stuffing the money into your pocket and holding the door open for yourself. “Can we go?”

Crowley nodded, throwing the wallet back at the cowering figure on the ground, getting into the car and turning to you.

“What was that about?”

“Nothing. He just fucked with the wrong car”, you grinned, patting the dashboard and leaning back in your seat.

Crowley chuckled, starting the car with a shake of his head and starting to drive-asking where you wanted to go.

“Well…we’ve got an extra £50. So, dinner’s on him!”


End file.
